


What the Water gave us

by Sylenis



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Blood and Injury, F/M, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Keith's family is mentioned, Kidge Week 2019, Kolivan makes an appearance too, because, carnivorous mermaids, human Keith and mermaid Pidge, mermaid au, monster mermaids that are a little bit creepy, set kind of modernish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-19
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-01-16 10:08:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18519274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sylenis/pseuds/Sylenis
Summary: Day Five of Kidgeweek: Supernatural AU Prompt"OK, so as Keith looked at the soft watercolor maiden on the page - streams of neat blonde hair, large sad blue eyes and a modest bodice laced with pearls - and back up to the wild girl with yellow sclerae, clawed hands and arms just a little longer in proportion than was normal and definitely at least one shark's tooth at the end of a beaded braid, maybe he could agree that she didn't look quite human."(see the beginning notes for warnings if the tags aren't enough)*





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, my computer died and I had to open it up to rescue the harddrive, and restore it to factory settings to get it working again and it STILL bluescreened again yesterday, which is worrying AND meant I ended up not doing any of the digital sketches I would have liked to do for Kidgeweek (or Kattweek for that matter boooo)
> 
> I wasn't sure how to rate this, but there are mentions of blood and injury in a flashback- no death or major violence. There's also a mention of nudity but nothing detailed, and they do catch, clean and cook fish so if you're squeamish/fond of fish/vegetarian, you might not enjoy that part.

"Careful, Pidge."   
Keith tried not to squirm as the girl's fingers traveled down his ankle and grazed the sensitive sole of his foot. Those fingers ended in sharp, pointed nails and were webbed in between, but so far she had been exceedingly gentle with him, aware of the damage she could do if she wasn't careful.  
  
"I've never seen a human up so close." She replied, then frowned. "Well... Not a live one. Drowned humans are.. scary, and they can't answer questions."  
Keith shivered and let her twist his foot around in her lap, inspecting the skin and the sprinkling of hair along his leg and ankle.  
  
She traced a circle around his ankle joint, then all four fingers pressed gently on the top of his foot, feeling between the bones underneath his skin and sliding down the length of his foot to his toes. Her flat face twisted into a small pout and her yellow eyes were focused as she tweaked his big toe between her index and thumb, spreading it away from its siblings and rotating it gently.  
  
"What are these?" She asked, moving onto the next toe to do the same.   
"Toes." Keith said promptly, and her face brightened as she put a human word to an image. She was a clever little thing, he couldn't deny her that. From what he could gather, she spent quite a bit of time watching families on the beach and on boats, listening to them speak and piecing together the words little by little. She'd even watched fishermen working, if her wide vocabulary of curses were anything to go by.  
  
"Oh! I know that word. I hear them say 'don't let the fish nibble your toes!'... What are they for?" She wiggled his little toe and Keith cocked his head, grinned and flexed them all, then made them wriggle as independently of each other as possible, watching her eyes widen in shock and delight.  
"Toes? They're for balance, I think."  
  
"Oh- for walking on land? And you swim with these too? Or, try to swim."  
"I can swim pretty well, actually." Keith said, and Pidge laughed.  
  
"For a human, maybe. These things are nothing like my fins. So small and lumpy."  
"Your fins are very pretty."  
Pidge beamed and the caudal fins in question broke the surface of the shallow water to flick droplets up into the sunlight. She seemed to like whenever he complimented her, whether it was on her tail or her grasp of the human tongue, it would make her bare her sharp teeth, toss her hair and flutter her fins with pride.  
  
There were other fins embellishing the length of her long scaled tail -dorsal and ventral, if the books Keith had checked out from the library were accurate to mermaids as well as fish- but curled in the pools of their little cove, he couldn't really see them. He could make out a shimmer of bronze and green that rippled and warped as the water moved to lap at the rocks, but most of it was underwater.  
  
At first glance, anyone from a distance might think they were just a boy and a girl, hiding out in a cove by the sea and chatting away the hours. Keith perched on flat rocks that walled off the deepest of the rock pools, letting his feet dangle in the cool water. Pidge could probably have hoisted herself up to join him, but preferred to sit in the water.   
  
From the waist up she looked like a girl with a thick mop of heavy waist length hair, until you noticed the speckled patches of dirty gold scales on her shoulders and arms.   
There was a scattering of them along her hairline- her hair a thick damp tangle with various braids, sea glass and fauna woven through the locks that hung over her back and generally covered up her bare chest.   
Not that Keith was a prude, but it had been a little distracting at first that his new friend wore nothing at all and, once assured that he would not harm her, had no sense of personal space.   
  
Her face was slightly flatter than a human's- she didn't use her nose in the same way Keith did- but it was her eyes that were most captivating. Dark amber and almost cat-like, it was a little unnerving how she gazed at everything with those golden eyes, determined to see, to find, to learn.   
  
Of course if someone were to somehow ignore all these signs, there was no mistaking or ignoring the gills that fluttered, blood red along her neck and down her collarbone. When he'd spotted her in this cave they now spent their time together in, his first panicked thought was that he'd come across a murder victim, a poor girl whose throat was slashed and left to wash up in the shallow pools after the storm the previous night.   
  
The real injury had been the fishing net wrapped around and cutting into the lower half of her long tail, hidden in the water.   
  
On the first weak splash in the shallows, Keith had panicked again. At his strangled cry it had awoken and begun to keen and thrash in an attempt to get away, showering him with salt water and churning up clouds of red in the pools, gold scales fluttering in the water like some kind of sick confetti.   
  
When it began to scream louder, blood curdlingly pitched and punctuated by strange clicks his head had spun. The bright blue net was bound around the tail tightly like the string around a joint of beef, and somewhere in Keith's mind he'd managed to put together enough thoughts to realize that, no matter what this creature was, it was in pain and he needed to help.   
  
Swapping between murmuring low in the hopes that he might calm it and clamping his mouth shut to stop the taste of salt from hitting his tongue as it splashed him again, he'd crouched low and crawled through the rocks and sand until he could lay a palm on the writhing tail, feeling scales and muscles twisting frantically against his skin.   
  
There had been no way to work his knife under the taut netting without hurting its already raw tail, but luckily the blade was sharp enough that with gentle sawing motions with the tip, one by one he could snap the netting, feeling nauseous when the blue had come away stained dark.   
  
Partway through the third string, the creature seemed to realize that he was helping- or had felt the relief of loosening bonds- and had stopped shrieking and fallen still, one golden eye peering out from under a wet sheet of rust colored hair. He'd met that eye with his and felt giddy with disbelief- it was  _looking_  at him, with intelligence in its shrouded face.  
  
When the last part of the netting fell away, Keith had bundled it up to toss up onto the rocks in the cove, not wanting a repeat performance with another poor sea animal.  
  
The tail was still twitching, now freed fins rippling feebly back and forth and the scales shimmered from gold to green and back again. Keith had run a hand gently down the scales, avoiding the welts the net had left, unsure if he should do anything else- go into town to find some disinfectant? Salt water was the original disinfectant and this... being was currently surrounded by it.   
At his touch she had whined and clicked again, and Keith had stared up the tail, where the scales faded out to silvery pale skin, a pair of human arms and a face with quivering scared lips and two eyes bright with apprehension.  
  
"Hello." He'd said quietly, trying to keep his voice calm, the way you did with a frightened animal.  
  
"Hello." The creature had whispered back, and Keith had fallen backwards onto his ass in the water.  
  
*  
  
The marks on her tail were healing nicely- some would be barely noticeable soon as the scales grew back, but others might leave some scarring. Keith was a little afraid to ask after he'd caught her picking glumly at the tattered edge of a fin.   
  
Pidge stroked a line up the center of the sole of his foot and he yelped and kicked out instinctively, twisting at the tickling sensation.   
"Sorry," he gasped at her hurt expression, "That tickled- no, wait it's OK." He added when she sank into the shallows with a pout, folding her arms in the sand and blowing bubbles in the water like a child. "You just took me by surprise, that's all- look, I brought you some more books to look at."  
  
He'd said the magic words; as he turned where he sat to grab his backpack there was a small splash as she hefted herself up the rocks with her arms, dragging her tail further onto land to peer over his shoulder.   
  
Pidge was enamored with books- the first few nights after he found her the storm had raged around the bay, stirring the sea and staining it black and purple. She had remained huddled in the cove, refusing to talk anymore as she nursed her wounds, hissing at him when he tried to get too near to her torn fins.   
  
Wondering how best to help her, he'd taken a walk into the town library and checked out as many books on marine life as he could carry, hoping to find something, anything to help him treat her lacerations.  
  
It had been the big ice breaker, when she saw him poring over a particularly large text on veterinary practices she'd uncurled herself to watch as he turned the pages, and inch by inch she'd shuffled closer until she was near enough that she could have turned the pages herself.  
  
Then the questions had come. Why did the books she'd find on the seafloor look so wrinkled, the ink smeared and paper disintegrating? What was paper? What was his name? What kind of human was he?   
  
Her grasp on the human language was basic but impressive to Keith, considering she was self-taught, and speaking with her only gave her more fodder, more words to turn over in her mouth and experiment with, more context to the phrases she already knew.   
  
She could also read, to an extent- time spent watching humans on the beaches had helped her to recognize letters and certain words- and getting hold of the books had set her off improving even further.   
It had taken several very careful explanations before she'd conceded that she couldn't keep the books, that they didn't belong to Keith and would have return to something called a 'library'.  
  
With the veterinary texts had come more questions. Why can't humans breathe underwater? How exactly do they breathe air? Do they have blowholes like dolphins? He'd dredged up his memories of science lessons and tried to explain the concept of mammals, oxygen and blood to her and when he'd gestured to his chest where his lungs were, she'd lunged for him.   
  
When he'd opened his eyes again her cheek was pressed to his chest, hands on his sides, feeling his rib cage rise and fall with each breath and dampening his shirt. He was unable to see her from this angle, but could feel her concentration, the way she held herself to him, head moving with his chest.  
  
"You have a heart too!" She'd announced with glee, pressing closer to listen and he hoped she didn't pick up on how it was suddenly beating much faster.  
  
She had no qualms about touching him and he'd had very little time to get used to this. After a comment on her rows of very sharp teeth they'd discussed the diets of her people and of humans, and the next thing he'd known there was a pair of fingers in his mouth, poking at his much flatter teeth.   
  
In return she'd let him see and touch the webbing between her fingers, told him how her sharp nails were for catching and dispatching prey. He'd started bringing more books- dictionaries, fairy tales, science workbooks, all meant to answer her questions.  
  
Today it had been his feet, and he was glad he'd thought to look in the children's section of the library.   
He'd found similar to his own old school books about biology, but the ones aimed at younger children had far bigger pictures and simpler diagrams. He'd brought both, figuring with the speed she learned at she'd soon graduate from grade school to senior text books.   
  
He grabbed the towel from the other pocket of his backpack and helped her dry her hands, then spread the towel over what would be her lap so she could rest the book on it without getting it damp.  
  
"Fascinating," She purred as he flipped to a page with a diagram of how breathing and circulation worked in humans. He grinned- 'fascinating' was a new word for Pidge and she was taking great delight in using it whenever possible.  
  
"Your lungs look like this?" She pointed to the little pink person splashed on the page, boldly lined organs laid out and labeled and Keith nodded.   
"Not as cartoonish, but pretty much."   
She trilled in response and carried on perusing the pages, occasionally asking him to read out an unfamiliar word, or turning to prod and poke at parts of his body.  
  
"Humans cannot see at night?" She asked, frowning at a diagram of an eyeball and he shrugged.  
"Not as well as some animals and stuff." He wasn't surprised when she leaned up to peer into his face, though he couldn't help glancing down at her fingers, but thankfully for once she didn't seem adamant on poking him.  
  
"You have pretty eyes." She said thoughtfully. "Like a stormy night-" At Keith's cough and heated face she seemed to realise what she was saying and pulled back with a huff and flutter of her gills. "For a human, I mean."  
  
She looked confused, and Keith  _felt_ confused at her words and actions, so he turned back to the bag and pulled out the other books that had caught his eye among the tiny brightly coloured beanbags in the children's corner.  
  
"I brought you this too- I thought you might get a kick out of it." He passed her the book, and her frustrated expression was replaced with one of curiosity.  
"...Kick?"  
  
"Like you'd find it amusing- never mind." He watched as she traced a finger over the golden embossed title 'The Little Mermaid', before opening it up. The words were a little bigger and simple, meant for small children, and every other page was taken up with an illustration that Pidge spent several minutes gazing at.   
  
"You draw us like humans." She grumbled, and Keith cocked his head.   
"Well, you do look human- on top."  
"We do not!"  She glared up at him, scandalized as she stared him up and down, curling her lip at- whatever she was looking at on him.   
  
OK, so as Keith looked at the soft watercolor maiden on the page - streams of neat blonde hair, large sad blue eyes and a modest bodice laced with pearls - and back up to the wild girl with yellow sclerae, clawed hands and arms just a little longer in proportion than was normal and definitely at least one shark's tooth at the end of a beaded braid, maybe he could agree that she didn't look quite human.  
  
"Alright- maybe not." He admitted, and as she looked back down and turned the page he couldn't help but think that there was something far more fiercely beautiful about the one in front of him than any pretty picture of a mermaid princess he'd seen prior.  
  
She laughed as she looked at the next illustration. "He looks like you."  
"What?" Keith looked at the image of the human Prince standing on a boat.   
"Black hair, blue eyes."  
  
"Hmn. He's way more buff than me." When she looked at him questioningly, he shrugged. "I'm skinny. Underfed. Scrawny."  
"Under...fed... You do not have enough food?"  
  
Keith paused. He was doing much better since Kolivan -an old friend of his father's- had taken him on as an apprentice at the garage. At least now he had a small but regular wage, a place to sleep at night, and Kolivan and the other men at the garage seemed to be competing over who had the most excuses as to why they had surplus food every week. Someone's husband had cooked way too much lasagna that Wednesday, the cafe had given them an extra sandwich, Antok had been gifted a cake but he didn't like red velvet. All were excuses to allow Keith to accept the food without feeling awkward or trying to pay them back; a game they seemed to take very seriously.   
  
Regular food and a job fetching and carrying and occasionally helping to fix the trucks had built him a little muscle, but he was still somewhat small and skinny for his nineteen years.  
  
"Mm, sometimes it was hard to get enough food."  
"I can bring you food." Pidge said quickly, looking up at him earnestly. "It will be easy. As much as you need."  
  
"You don't need to, Pidge." Keith protested. "I can't eat raw fish anyway- I'd need to cook it."  
"Cook it? With fire? You can do that here?"  
  
Keith glanced towards the back of the cove. It had been his hideout, his thinking spot for many months, and there was a sandy pit that was usually relatively dry. He knew how to build a fire, how to prepare and cook various meats and vegetables. He could always bring up one of those little portable barbecue trays, he supposed.  
  
"Yeah, I could probably cook it here."  
"I would like to see that. Very much." Pidge's eyes were glimmering, brimming with thinly veiled excitement.  
  
"Later?"  
"Yes, later. First, I will finish this book, and then I will bring you food and you will cook for me." She said all this with a great air of imperiousness and Keith couldn't help but grin as she continued to read, thumbing the pages delicately and petting the illustrations, stroking along the paint strokes of the prince's hair with one long nail.  
  
  
  
  
  
"She turned into a human?" Pidge gaped at the words on the page, and then furrowed her face up. "How?  _Why_?"  
  
"It's just a story." Keith said, "But... I think she wanted to meet the human?"  
"I met you just fine, and I didn't need legs." She huffed. "And you helped  _me_ from a storm."  
  
"I was hardly gonna leave you like that." Keith grunted as he eyed the fading crosses imprinted into her tail. "So, you're not going to be trading your fins for feet any time soon?"  
"Why would I do that?" Pidge twisted where she sat to glare at Keith's legs. "Why would I want such short, lumpy,  _hairy_ legs?"  
  
"I don't think you would have as much hair as me- never mind." He shrugged at her pursed lips, not wanting to go into genetics and hair colours right now.  
  
The longer Pidge read from the book, the more Keith worried that maybe this wasn't his best idea. She stared for a long time at the final few images, re-reading the words to herself and slumping further forwards.  
  
"She left her family behind." She mumbled, "I don't understand, why would she do that?"  
It took Keith a moment to realize she was expecting an answer from him and he blanched.  
  
"I don't know." He said, "I never really thought about this story much. I guess... If you're not happy, or you're lonely, you'd be willing to leave everything behind and look for happiness somewhere else."  
  
"She had sisters!" Pidge cried, "She had a family, look!" She turned the pages back as quickly as she could, creasing a couple before she found the page she wanted, holding it up and jabbing her finger into the painting of a ring of mermaid sisters. "A father, a grandmother, sisters- if I ever left my brother to be with a  _human_ \- I could never-"   
  
"You're with me right now." Keith said gently, taking the book from her and smoothing the pages down, letting it rest on his lap.  
"That's  _different._  Tonight I will go back to him. As I did last night. I couldn't leave my family forever. I  _couldn't._ "  
  
"Nobody is saying you must, Pidge. It's just a story. It wasn't real. Well..." Keith cocked his head. He'd always thought it was a story, same as the existence of mermaids, but well... Now one was sitting right next to him, flexing her fingers and twitching her tail in distress. "I don't think it was."  
  
"I don't like this story." Pidge mumbled, and Keith closed it, thumbing over the raised texture of the cover.  
"Sorry Pidge." He sighed, casting around for something to distract her. "You have a brother?"  
  
"Yes." She smiled a little as she played with the towel in her lap. "We are very close and I love him very much. Do you have a brother? Or sisters?"  
"No," He replied. "I was an only child."  
"Oh... Your mother and father?"  
  
"My dad died, when I was nine." Keith said quietly. "He didn't talk about my mom much; I don't remember her."   
If he closed his eyes tight, he could bring up memories. Eating breakfast in the kitchen, his father gazing wistfully at the sea line through of the window with his chin in his hand. The smell of smoke that clung to his uniform when he brought it home. Blue eyes that crinkled when he smiled. An itchy, too-big suit to wear to a funeral and strangers patting his head and clucking in sympathy.   
  
"Then who... took care of you? When you were a pup?"  
  
Pup? Oh... child.  
  
"I went into a Home." He said, turning a little so he could face her better. Normally he'd turn away, hide himself and grunt his answers or avoid answering at all. Pidge liked to see his face, to follow his lips and expressions as he spoke to help herself gather context, and Pidge... Her sad and confused expression didn't feel like the usual patronizing, aggravating pity other humans loaded him with. Sure she was sassy, and liked to make fun of his human proportions and shortcomings as far as water went, but she wasn't deliberately unkind. She might not understand, but he felt safe talking to her. Safer than talking with most other humans.  
  
Her eyes darted side to side at his answer and he knew she was thinking, sorting through her vocabulary for a match on what the words meant, so he elaborated.  
"It's like a... building. And kids like me- with no family, they put us in the Home and take care of us until we're older."  
  
"But you were loved at this... Home, right?" Her eyes were bright, fixed on him and pressing. She was wearing that same earnest expression as when she thought he didn't have enough food. This wasn't a conversation he could distract her from with books or watches or other human trinkets.   
He could lie maybe- tell her yes, that he was cared for. That he was never cold, or hungry or lonely. But Pidge wasn't a fool; she would see right through any falsehoods he tried to tell. He blew a puff of air through his lips.  
  
"No. It wasn't a nice place to grow up."  
  
A cool hand touched his cheek and Pidge was twisting closer, her other hand on his leg for balance. He didn't know if mermaids could cry, but she looked as though she could right now.  
"If you had been born to the sea..." She trailed off, shaking her head slightly. "You would never have been alone. My mother would never leave a pup to fend for itself. You would have been loved."   
  
"It's not all bad, now. I have Kolivan."   
"Kolivan?" She rolled the word around her mouth, testing and repeating it to herself.  
  
"Yeah, he's looking out for me." He told her a little of the workshop Kolivan owned in town, a Mechanics where they mostly fixed up trucks and bikes, and tourists' cars. Of the little attic space above Kolivan's office, now kitted out with a small but soft bed, a set of drawers and a simple desk and chair. It wasn't a lot- it was all Kolivan could give him and much, much more than Keith could ever have asked of him, but it was comfortable.  
  
"And Kolivan... loves you?"  
Keith huffed a laugh as he thought of Kolivan's gruff unsmiling face, unlit cigarette between his teeth as he reached out an oil-smudged hand for Keith to pass him a wrench. He wasn't exactly the affectionate type, but Keith had learned to read the sentiments that came in all the unspoken ways.  
  
"Yeah. He does."  
"I'm glad." Pidge smiled, fiddling with a beaded braid that hung over her shoulder. His leg was brushing against her tail, smooth scales cool and still slightly damp against his skin.   
  
Was he really sitting here, pouring his heart out to a creature he'd thought only existed in storybooks and movies a week prior?   
Maybe  _he'd_ gotten lost in the storm, banged his head and was now just conjuring Pidge up in his mind, though he wasn't sure he had the imagination to dream up such a being.  
  
He looked out over the sea, calm today and glittering like a jewel in the sunlight. Gulls were flying overhead and it all seemed so..  _normal._ Sitting with a mermaid, discussing science and sharing stories felt like something that could easily become part of his routine. Whatever it was that had pulled him to the cove that night as the wind whipped and the ocean threatened to pull in any hapless soul that strayed to close, whatever had called him down there he felt strangely grateful.  
  
Next to him, Pidge patted his leg and slid smoothly into the pool below with barely a splash.  
"I," She announced, "am going to hunt. You will build a fire."  
  
"How long will you be?" He leaned forward as she glided out towards the opening, top of her head still visible for now. Pidge turned to face him, smiling with a row of deadly teeth.  
"I am very fast."  
  
"I'll need to get some stuff to start a fire, so take your time." He called back, and she laughed before disappearing with a deliberately elegant splash of pale gold fins.  
  
*  
  
He'd contemplated building an honest-to-god campfire, but the idea of his father's face if he were there to see put him off. Instead he'd dug around in the storage rooms of the garage until he found the little metal disposable grills and placed one carefully in his backpack. They were old, gathering dust in the back of the shelves amongst piles of scrap metal and old gadgets. He'd been reassured that as long as he was careful, he was free to use anything he found out back.  
  
The afternoon was starting to turn orange, long shadows casting over the boardwalk and so he'd made a quick stop by his room to roll up and stuff into his bag one of the many blankets piled on his bed. He'd been keeping a small bar of chocolate in his desk drawer and after contemplating it for a moment, added that to the bag too. Surely a nibble wouldn't hurt her, and she  _was_ bringing him dinner after all.  
  
The grill lit pretty easily despite its age, and he watched the coals glow as they warmed through. He brought the tray as close to the mouth the cove as possible, mindful of the smoke, spread the blanket over the rocks and waited.  
  
"That smells horrible."   
Pidge was back, wrinkling her face before submerging up to her eyes again, peering suspiciously at the smoking tin.  
Keith scrambled to the ends of the rock, lying flat on his stomach with his head hanging over the edge.  
  
"That's smoke. It comes with fire, I'm afraid." He said to the pair of amber eyes looking up at him. She contemplated him for a minute more before rising back up, hefting a bag woven of seaweed and what looked like strips of sailcloth over her head. Keith retrieved it, grunting at the weight and sat back. The bag was bulging with half a dozen large fish, motionless and gleaming silver in the late afternoon light.  
  
"I don't know how much humans eat." Pidge admitted. "Is it enough?"  
"More than enough." Keith grinned. "I'll only eat one."  
  
"One?" Pidge's eyes widened, and she frowned. "OK then. I will eat the others."  
"All five?" Keith asked, sitting back to retrieve his knife as she nodded. He remembered how to clean a fish from trips with his dad. He sat over the edge of the rocks, holding one of the fish over the water and started by raking the scales off, Pidge pulling herself up to rest her chin on her arms and watch with interest.   
  
"That isn't a very big fire." Pidge said as Keith worked, looking over at the barbecue where a few flames still flickered around the coals.   
"I can't really make a big one here." Keith said. "I'm best off doing that on the beach, and you can't come too close then."  
  
"I've seen fires on the beach." Pidge rolled her face so that her cheek rested on her arms instead. "From far away. They're not orange like this one."  
"Those will be driftwood fires." Keith looked up to check on the barbecue. "The wood soaks up the salt from the sea water, and when it burns, the sodium turns the fire different colors."  
"Fascinating."   
  
Keith chuckled. "I'll find you some chemistry books tomorrow. You actually shouldn't burn driftwood. The smoke is toxic. Poison." He added when she pulled a face. "Even worse than this smoke."  
  
"If it's poison, why do it?"  
Keith shrugged. "Maybe they don't care. Or don't know. My dad was a firefighter, he was pretty gung-ho on fire safety."  
"He fought fire?" Pidge craned her neck to look the smoking tin skeptically.  
"Fire in the wrong place is dangerous. It was his job to stop fire from hurting people." Until he'd gotten hurt. Keith put the thought from his mind and instead put his energy into cleaning up the fish.  
  
Pidge nodded thoughtfully as Keith lifted up the fish to inspect his work. "Should I take the bones out?"   
"Give it to me." Pidge held out a webbed hand and he passed her the fish. With a flick of her other hand she slit the fish's belly open, scooped out the contents and with another flash, had a small skeleton hooked around one claw.   
  
"Amazing." He grinned as she returned the fish with a smirk on her face.  "OK, here, now let's cook it."   
He let her watch as he scored the fish along its sides and then laid it carefully on the grill.   
  
"I should have brought some seasonings..." Keith muttered as the smoke fluttered around the fish. Pidge was peering over the rocks, not getting too close, the fin on her back twitching nervously whenever the smoke blew towards her. Eventually she relaxed enough to start asking questions. He patiently answered what are seasonings, why exactly he was cooking the fish, if she could eat raw fish why couldn't he, how long will it take to cook?   
  
  
"I think it's done." Keith prodded the meat on the grill. His eyes were watering a bit from the smoke, and Pidge had kept ducking her head under the water to clear her own eyes out.   
He fumbled inside his bag for the paper towels and fork, then rolled the fish over onto a thick wad of towels. Using his cupped hands he gathered water to throw on the grill and it hissed, steaming and making Pidge splash backwards into the water in alarm. She didn't return until Keith had poured a third handful of water and the hissing and steaming had abated.  
  
Pidge was wide eyed as he ate, gaze following the fork as he cut and stabbed chunks of the fish to bring up to his mouth.  
"You eat so  _weird._ " She laughed, and when he glared at her she just bared her teeth back at him.   
"Well how do you eat?" He shot back, cutting another piece off. Pidge retrieved another fish from her little woven bag, repeated her earlier motions to debone it, and then bit straight into the flesh, scales and all. He watched, open mouthed, completely forgetting about the fish in his own mouth as she finished off the entire thing in a couple of quick, large bites.  
  
She repeated this for the rest of the fish before Keith could even finish his own and he stared at her as she dunked her head under the water to wash her face.   
"How- how often do you need to eat like that?"  
"Hmm, every few quintants? If the catch is small, I need to eat again sooner. My brother's mate can eat three times what I do." Pidge hummed, then looked at the leftovers on his lap. "How often do  _you_ eat?"  
"A few times a day- quintant- but, not as much at once."  
  
"Can I try it?" Pidge was pulling herself up further onto land and Keith stuck a leg out between her and the still warm barbecue.   
"Sure, just don't touch that, OK? I don't need you burning yourself."   
Pidge glanced at the tin and adjusted her course until she was laying alongside him, her head near his thigh. She ignored the fork he offered out to her and plucked a chunk of meat from the towel with a claw.   
  
She pulled a face as she chewed and Keith smirked.  
"Not to your taste?"  
Her lip curled as she shook her head, twisting to spit the rest out into the water.   
"Next time I'll bring some oil and salt and stuff like that. Make it properly. Maybe grill some vegetables too."  
  
"I can bring you more food?" Pidge asked with a hopeful smile, and Keith nodded.   
"Sure. I brought you something else, too."  
He pulled the chocolate from his bag and crossed his legs, paper towel and fork discarded as he slipped a finger under the paper wrapper and opened it up. He was used to feeling her gaze on him at this point, and he made a show of unwrapping the foil slowly, without tearing it. She watched every little movement like she was committing it to memory, like she'd be tested on it later.   
At the first glimpse of brown she cocked her head. Keith knew she watched beach goers a lot, and so she should technically have seen chocolate before, but how close she was willing to get he didn't know.   
  
"I'll just give you a little bit for now." Her eyes widened at the snapping sound of the chocolate, and he snapped it again into two small squares for him and her.  
Pidge turned the tiny block over and over in her long fingers, and only when he'd popped his piece in his mouth did she mirror him. This time her face relaxed into a dreamy smile, her tail curling and she trilled, a soft chirrup that sounded in her throat.  
"Good?" He grinned.  
"Very. More please." When he paused to consider it, she repeated "Please."  
  
"Here." He broke off another chunk, and then wrapped the rest up and stowed it away. Her eyes followed his bag and he shifted it a little more behind him. "You shouldn't eat too much of it."  
She made a face but relented, savoring the second piece a little longer.   
As she sucked slowly on the chocolate she rolled over until she laid on her back, her head resting in his lap.   
  
Her eyes were half shut and Keith found the courage to pick up the end of a braid, stroking along the woven locks and turning the beads to catch the dying light. Yep, he counted two shark's teeth though her hair, holes carefully drilled into the tops and twine passed through to tie them into her hair. He opened his mouth to ask how she'd gotten them, how they'd put the holes in, but his words died in his throat when he saw her looking up at him sleepily.  
  
"Thank you." She said softly.  
"For what?" Keith found a lock of loose hair and began to pull the knots out. It felt soft despite the fact that she spent all her time in saltwater, it felt oddly different to human hair but he couldn't put his finger on how. She hummed again as he combed his fingers through her hair, a low clicking purr reverberating from behind her mouth.   
  
"For showing me human things. Books, food..." She curled the end of her tail out from where it trailed in the water and pointed lazily towards it and the shadow of her wounds. "For that. You're very kind."  
Keith grunted and kept his eyes on his hands as he worked on a clumsy braid, avoiding looking at her face, or to where her hair was splayed out all around her, leaving her completely uncovered.  
"Like I said, I couldn't leave you. You were in trouble. And I like bringing you stuff. I like talking to you." Keith didn't have many friends his own age, maybe that was why he'd gotten so attached so quickly to the girl, he wondered. He finished the braid and she reached up, touching his hand as she stroked the length of the plait, taking the end and bringing it around to her face so she could wind it around itself to tie it off.  
  
Pidge sat up, feeling around under her mane of hair until she found what she was looking for, working a red piece of sea glass loose and into her palm.  
"May I?" She held it up and he stared at her until she shook her head in exasperation and reached for his shoulders, turning him around until he was sitting with his back to her. Her nails were sharp but gentle as they sectioned off some of his hair behind his ear, running down his scalp repeatedly to get a smooth lock to play with.   
  
"Red is rare, on the seafloor." Pidge said as she started twisting small sections of his hair. "I don't find much of it, but it will look nice in your hair."  
"Do all your family tie up their hair?" He asked, closing his eyes and willing himself to relax under her touch.  
"Hmn, if we didn't it would get in our faces."  
"And the beads and teeth and stuff?"  
"They're pretty." She said simply. "When we find them, we clean them and put holes in them and wear them. My brother likes to find metal, and make them into decorations for his mate."  
  
"Mate?"  
"Yes, he was found alone and lost as a pup. My family took him in and a few deca-phoebs later when my brother and I hatched, we all grew up together and they fell in love."  
  
He felt a tug on his hair as she tucked the end of his hair around and fed the loop through the hole in the bead to hold the braid in place.   
"All done."   
Keith sat forward, feeling at the braid that clung close to his scalp and traveled down behind his ear to his hairline. The beaded end hung just above the junction of his neck, half hidden by the rest of his loose hair.  
  
"Now we're bonded mates." Pidge declared, and Keith felt the blood drain from his face, and then rush back in with full force.  
"We're  _what?"  
_  
"You initiated decorating my hair. That's a mating ritual for my people. Then you accepted my gift in exchange, and we're bonded now."  
"I didn't- no, wait-" Keith spluttered, and then caught sight of the way one side of her mouth curved upwards. "Pidge, you're joking, please tell me this is a joke."   
  
Her grin widened. "It is a 'joke'. Grooming is for many things. Family, good friends, and... mates, but not just mates."   
She began to laugh when he choked and glared at her.   
" _Pidge_! Damn it..." Keith sat back, a hand over his chest to steady the panicked beating of his heart.  
"We're not mates, no." She was laughing harder, the look in her eyes devilish. "I just like seeing you turn red like that."  
  
"You scared me." He grumbled, pulling the blanket he'd been sitting on up and round his shoulders.   
"Not too much?" She leaned forward to look up into his face, tugging at the blanket.  
"How would I explain to Kolivan I accidentally married a woman who can't come up on land to meet him?"  
  
"True," Pidge sighed, flopping back down to rest her chin on her hands in front of him. She looked a little sad, or maybe it was a trick of the quickly fading light. "I can't take you with me either."  
  
"Speaking of, it's getting late." Keith said quietly, picking at a loose thread on his blanket. "I've got to work in the shop tomorrow morning."  
"I wish I could see that."   
"I'll get you some books about engines, and chemistry too. When can you come back?"   
  
"Hmmn... Two quintants?" Pidge counted on webbed fingers. "I promised Hunk I would help him collect more metal."  
"Hunk, is that your brother?"   
"No," she smiled. "He is part of our family, but we don't share blood. I can explain better another day. If you bring me that... Dictionary."  
  
"I'll bring it." Keith promised, and Pidge nodded happily as she began the shuffle back into the water. Keith tugged his boots back on his feet and stowed his belongings back in his bag, but kept the blanket out, folding it in half and draping it around his shoulders as he followed Pidge along the edge of the rocks to the mouth of the cove. Right at the end he squatted down to look closer. In the dark her eyes reflected like an animal's, yellow and eerie.  
"I'll see you in a couple of days?"  
"I look forward to it. Goodnight, Keith."  Pidge promised, and disappeared into the depths in a cloud of rust coloured hair. Keith watched the water for a little while longer, but didn't see any flashes of bronze or any sort of movement that suggested where she was heading, so he stood back up and started on the walk back home.  
  
*  
  
"You smell like smoke."  
Keith looked up from the tea he was pouring. Kolivan was looking through invoices at the workbench, his face and voice as impassive as ever.  
"oh- yeah, I took one of the barbecues up to the beach. Hope that's alright."  
"As long as you distinguished it properly." Kolivan grunted, then glanced up at him. "The beach, you said?"  
"Yeah, the weather's been nice, it was my day off. Figured I'd get some sun." He gestured at his arms, still as pale as ever. Kolivan snorted, and then his eyes traveled up and a flicker of a frown passed over his features, twisting the scarred edge of his lip further.  
  
"Is that where you found the sea glass? Did you go swimming?"   
Keith had been reaching for the sugar, and stopped. He'd almost forgotten about the knuckle sized orb tied into his hair. Felt its weight as he walked home, feeling comforted by it until he'd gotten lost in his few evening chores around the shop, sweeping the concrete floors of sand and dirt and carting tool boxes back to their storage units.  
  
He could hardly claim he'd found it- a chip of red glass that had not only been worn smooth and round but also had a hole born through it? He shrugged. "A friend gave it to me."  
  
"A friend. At the beach."  
"Yeah."  
  
Kolivan stacked the papers together, tapping them on the surface of the bench until they piled neatly, then stood up, pausing to linger on the braid through Keith's hair again.  
"Be careful, Keith." He said. "Not everyone you meet down there is as they appear."  
And with that, he turned and left the workshop, leaving Keith stood with one hand wrapped around his mug, the other lingering over the smooth red glass by his neck.  
  
What was that supposed to mean?

 

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually have a slightly different AU along these lines drafted out in my docs, where Mer-Matt has been taken by humans and Shiro too, leaving Pidge and Keith to try and rescue them, but I thought of this slightly more fluffy oneshot and liked the idea of it. 
> 
> This was really fun tweaking Pidge's personality to fit the Universe's settings. Obviously mermaids can't use computers under the sea (or can they??) so she had to be smart in other ways, like learning languages and being intensely curious about life on land. She's also still very confident and prideful, a bit mean sometimes but not cruel. Her familial bonds are still as strong as ever and I think the Holts in any universe would be horrified at Keith living as an orphan. 
> 
> I would have liked to have put in some more about Pidge's family life- that her shoal is made up of a lot of little families who all live together, so Hunk and Shiro are part of her family but not related by blood and I couldn't decide if Lance would be part of her family too, or a human boy that Keith sometimes runs into when out swimming, but hey this is a oneshot for Kidgeweek so let's focus on those two.  
> I slipped in a few hints that Keith's world might not be all it seems either, but I don't know if I'd carry this on so I'll leave that to your imaginations.
> 
> Thanks for reading if you did! I really liked writing this one so please let me know if you liked it! :D


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I want to see you." She said, bracing one hand past his thighs and the other gripped his face, cupping under his chin and holding his cheeks so that she could press her face up close to his, yellow irises flickering as they followed his. "Not just books. Not just things. I want to see Keith."
> 
> *
> 
> Mini Chapter 2 for Mother's Day <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was asked for a second part, here is a second part.
> 
> I promise I have NO idea what's happening.

The summer months were on their way and so the streets were becoming more busy, the population of people milling around the shops more dense the closer you got to the sea line.   
The open beach front was already dotted with early holiday makers excited to see the sun, dogs barking, children screaming and parents nattering.  
  
Nobody really noticed the local boy with the large backpack making his way past the fence lines and down the pathless rocks and brush.  
  
This part of the beach was mostly untouched, save for a few old fire pits and makeshift driftwood benches made by groups of teens or families that lived in the town. It wasn't as tidy or as accessible as the stretch of white sand along the city line, and so few tourists ever really ventured here.  
  
Keith trudged through the rocky sand, boots skidding on stones and shells half buried until he got to the line of short cliffs, a ridge of brown and green rocks where the land ended and the sea began. The tide wasn't completely out, so the path was slimmer than usual, and he used a hand to steady his journey along the ridges of slippery stone and rounded the corner to the small cove.  
  
Pidge laid flat out on her side, sunning herself along one of the smoother, flatter rocks that turned the shallow water into a maze of small pools. With one arm she propped her chin up in her hand, the other lazily thumbing the current page of her book. More books surrounded her, some open with small rocks holding her page, and close by was her little woven bag, a half eaten fish laid on top of it where she'd clearly gotten bored waiting for him and decided to pick at it as she read.  
  
"Keith!" She saw him coming before he could get to her platform and sat up. The fins that trailed in the water flicked up in greeting. He suppressed a grin as he hopped up the rocks towards her. She still pronounced his name more like "Keet"- the 'th' sound continuing to elude her tongue, and most attempts came out as a soft 'T'.  
  
"Hey." He slung the backpack down from his shoulders and sat down beside her in the sun. The backpack hit the rocks with a thud. "I brought you more books."   
"Ah!" Pidge's hands closed around his arm to look around him as he extracted the first of the books- a textbook on automobiles.  
  
"These," Keith leafed through until he found a photo of a more modern looking vehicle, "are cars."  
Pidge took the book carefully from him and began to work her way down the opposite page, lips moving silently as she read the words.   
  
He'd explained a little to her about what he did at the shop, what cars were and why humans needed them. She'd scoffed a little at the idea of needing a machine to get around faster, but later admitted that it actually sounded very interesting, and that sometimes she and her brother hitched rides with orcas for fun.   
  
"You make these?" Pidge looked up at him from a diagram of an open engine, awe on her face.  
"No, not exactly. When they break, people bring them to Kolivan and he fixes them. He's teaching me to fix them too."  
"An apprentice." Pidge nodded, remembering their previous conversations. Keith leaned across her to flip to another photo.  
  
"I am kind of working on one of these, too."   
Pidge peered at the diagram. "What is it?"  
  
"It's called a motorcycle. Here-" he turned the page to a photo of a figure in a helmet straddling a black cruiser. "You sit on it like that to ride it."  
"Kolivan is teaching you?"  
"Antok is." Keith answered. "He's got a big one like that picture. Mine- well, it was my dad's. Apparently it's been sitting in the back of the fire station for ten years. Nobody wanted to get rid of it, but it was kinda busted by now. It was all seized up."  
  
The thought that some possessions of his father's might still remain had never occurred to Keith. He'd left the little house by the sea so quickly, and so young- he had no idea what had even happened to that house, to their things. By the time he'd returned to this town nearly a decade later he'd recognized nothing; least of all the Auto-shop with the 'help wanted' sign in the window.   
The men in the shop had immediately recognized the slight, pale boy with scruffy hair falling into his father's eyes, and the rest was history.  
  
When Antok had wheeled the red bike in, rust bordering the panels and green blotches marring the silver he hadn't been sure how to feel. Working on it was cathartic though; a small connection between the life he'd once had and the one that he was starting to like.   
  
"There are parts that should move, and they didn't anymore." Keith pointed out another diagram. "Plus it's rusting and needs a new paint-job as well as new parts."   
Pidge was nodding along- he wasn't sure she fully understood some of the words, but he was sure she'd file them away to look up later in the book.  
  
"This is amazing." She was grinning up at him and he raised an eyebrow.  
"New word, there?" Her smile turned a little smug and he knew he was right. The dictionary was laid out next to her, along with a science book opened up to a page about the human body and a picture of an inside-out looking man flexing the muscles in his arms.  
  
"I have some things for you today." Pidge said, reaching for her bag. Keith caught the book that threatened to tip from her lap and closed it.   
"My brother made it. He said he wanted you to see."   
Pidge pressed something cold and a little sharp into his hands. Keith lifted up the metal sculpture and watched it glint in the sun.  
  
"It's... an octopus?" It was about the size of a football, strips of metal all entwined together, warped and curved into eight tentacles and a balloon shaped head in the center. He recognized several pieces of cutlery and what looked like old drinks cans torn into aluminium strips all folded around each other. Little beads and chunks of glass were inlaid along the underside to imitate the suckers and they glittered as he rotated it around to look.  
  
"He  _made_ this?" Keith stared a little longer, then back down at Pidge who was smiling up at it with pride.  
"Matt is very smart. He is good at thinking and making. Hunk is the same so they help each other."  
  
"And you guys, what, make metal sea creatures?"  
"Tools." Pidge prompted. "My brother's mate- Shiro, he only has one...ahh..." She paused, flapping her wrist at Keith, who stared.  
"One... fin?"  
"No- this." She shook her hand in Keith's face which didn't help until she grabbed her upper arm with her other hand. "All this, gone."  
"Hand-? arm! Only one arm?"  
"Yes! Shiro has one arm."  
  
"What happened to him?" The question was out before he could stop himself and he flinched, waiting for her to chide him about asking such a personal question but no reprimand came.  
"We don't know." Pidge touched one of the octopus' glittering tentacles. "My father found him, alone and hurt. No family. They looked for many phoebs, and nobody knows where he comes from and he does not remember. We think his family was attacked by... something. And only he lived."  
  
"'Something'?" Keith repeated, and Pidge pursed her lips but did not answer.  
"He just stayed with us, he is our family now. Matt makes tools for his arm. To help him work, to help him hunt. To decorate him. Matt wants to meet you."  
  
"Me?"  
"I think he will like to see these books." Pidge picked her dictionary up, running a hand fondly over the cover. "Very much the cars and science. He and Hunk are making... They want to make Shiro an arm. An arm that works."  
  
"And he thinks books might help?"  
"Maybe." Pidge shrugged, a habit she'd picked up from him. "But I think, he also wants to see a real human."  
  
Her words stirred something in Keith and he sat forward, watching as she grinned down at his feet shifting on the warm rock.  
"So, Matt's never met a human?"  
"No." Pidge shook her head, tossing heavy curls over her shoulder. She frowned at him. "My family does not want us to come close to land."  
"Then nobody in your family has come up, met humans?" Pidge shook her head again, and he pressed on. "And I'm the first  _you've_ ever met?"  
  
"Yes." She said, almost irritably. "Keith, I have told you this?"  
  
"I just..." Keith fished in his back pocket, lifting his butt in the air and Pidge watched with some interest. "I need to talk to you about this."  
Pidge smiled at the red sea glass in his palm. "You kept it!"  
"Yeah I wasn't sure if taking it out would upset you." When she looked confused he continued, "Maybe you'd be sad that I undid your braid?"  
  
"Oh- no. No, we change our hair a lot. Look!" She shook her hair around her neck to the front, showing off a new, slightly messy braid tied off with a thick wrapping of some sort of twine.  
"The pups wanted to try. It's OK. I can make you a new one- oh, wait!"  
"That's, kind of what I want to ask you about-" Keith said, but Pidge was digging in her little bag, mumbling to herself, a series of small clicks sounding in her throat. "-Pidge-"  
  
"I brought more, look!"   
"Pidge, listen-"  
  
She was holding out a handful of shards of glass. One was a dark grey, the other two a shocking cobalt blue. "They're from my collection. They made me think of you." She raised the two blue pieces up to her eyes with a toothy grin, "See?"  
  
"Pidge, wait a moment, stop."  
Pidge paused in the middle of scooting towards him with the clear intent to mess with his hair again, and cocked her head. Keith took a deep breath.  
"I took out the glass because, when Kolivan saw it, he seemed... upset. It was almost like he knew you gave it to me."  
  
"Did you tell Kolivan about me?"  
"No! I haven't told anyone. But he seemed... I dunno, not angry, but, worried, I guess? And I wondered if, maybe he knows about you guys."  
Pidge stared blankly at him for a moment, watching him turn the little red bead over in his fingers.   
  
"You are the first human I met." She insisted, and when he opened his mouth she continued. "My family won't come. They are scared of humans." She still looked confused as she played with the frosted gems. Keith tipped his head towards her as a peace offering and closed his eyes when he felt her fingers comb through his hair.  
  
"OK, I get it. I'm just... wondering. Did you say there are others? Other families? Would they come to the surface maybe?" Keith opened an eye and watched as she tipped her head in thought, pressing a finger to her lower lip.  
"Hmmn... There are others. There is a family close- they like warm water so when the cold comes they leave for South. There is a... boy, he is foolish sometimes but I don't think he would talk to a human. Our people are..." Pidge sighed and he waited as she tried to organize her thoughts. He could practically hear her thinking, turning human words over in her mind.  
  
"Humans hunt fish. They put bad things in our ocean. We are told as pups to stay away from land. I... should not be here. If my father could see..."  
"But your brother knows about me? And what about the storm? When you went missing, what did you tell them?"   
  
He knew she had been out with Matt near the shore when the storm had hit, so sudden that not even their acute senses had the time to register the change in the currents. She'd been hurled off course, smaller and lighter than her brother and had been sent careening straight into an old fishing net, already tightly, hopelessly tangled before she'd even had a chance to stop spinning.  
  
Pidge let go of his hair mid twist, wrapping her arms around herself and turning away from him to stare out at the sea in the opposite direction. Keith sat up straighter, biting his lip when he saw her face, felt her tail swishing through the water next to his ankles. Her upper posture was calm, if a little glum, but the twitch of her fins and the ripples around his feet belied her agitation.  
  
"I trust Matt not to tell." She said finally. "I told him that you rescued me, were kind to me. He told my family that we found a sharp tool to cut the net."   
  
She seemed almost worried that he'd take offense to the lie, but Keith was more worried about the lies she was telling her family. Where did they think she was disappearing off to every few days since her accident? From her stories her pod seemed close-knit, each member helping to hunt, to patrol borders, to mind the youngest. Lying to them was clearly upsetting her and he was pretty sure he was really not worth the potential fallout if her secret were to be discovered.  
  
"If you shouldn't be here..." Keith trailed off, unsure how to tell her that she shouldn't come up to the shore without offending her, unsure if he  _could_  tell her she shouldn't come because that might mean she'd stop.  
"I want to be here." Pidge said sharply. "I want to know. I want to understand how the land works. This- you- This is what I want."  
  
The way she continued to curl in on herself didn't lend much weight to her statement. Would she be punished for spending time with him? How big a betrayal was this to her family? If he could explain that it hadn't been her fault he'd found her, that she had been wounded and all he'd wanted to do was help... Would it even make a difference, seeing as she'd been coming back again and again to talk to him?  
  
"Pidge, I don't want you to get in trouble because of me."  
  
"I won't." She snapped back, voice fierce, though when she finally looked back at him her eyes were large and unsure. "What of Kolivan? Will you stop coming?"  
"I-" Keith wanted to reach out, to do something that might comfort her, but his hands felt too heavy all of a sudden, his breath catching at her alien eyes fixed on him. The little pearl of glass was warm in his hand now, absorbing the heat from his skin as he looked down at it.  
  
"No." Keith said, and again more firmly. "No. I want to keep seeing you."  
  
Her face brightened a little, arms unfolding so that she could shuffle back up to him.   
"I want to see you." She said, bracing one hand past his thighs and the other gripped his face, cupping under his chin and holding his cheeks so that she could press her face up close to his, yellow irises flickering as they followed his. "Not just books. Not just  _things._ I want to see Keith."  
  
Keith held his breath for a moment more as she still didn't let go. Her sharp nails dug not entirely uncomfortably into his skin and the trinkets in her hair were clinking together as gravity pulled the dry locks down over her shoulders, oddly loud in his ears over the waves that had become the background music to all their meetings.  
  
He lifted his hand slowly, fingers shaking - _why, he wasn't afraid she'd hurt him_ \- until he could take her wrist and hold it.   
  
"OK."  
"OK? We are clear?" She released his face, ignoring the soft grip he still had on her wrist. "You will come?"  
"Yes. I'll come."   
  
Pidge dipped her head for a moment before looking back up through her hair at him coyly. "Can Matt come too?"  
The worry that he might be getting Pidge into something she could end up regretting was battling with his desire to keep seeing her and the intrigue of meeting one the people she held in such high esteem. The worry was putting up a good fight, but was losing.   
  
What was wrong with him? He couldn't remember the last time he'd been tempted at the offer of meeting someone new. This strange girl wanted to bring her, by the sounds of it, just as strange brother to meet him, probably poke and prod him just as she had and yet he was only a little apprehensive at that thought.  
  
She was still staring up at him, her eyes wide as she awaited his response.  
  
"Yeah, just don't get each other into trouble, OK? What about the others- um... Hunk, and Shiro?"  
  
Pidge shook her head. "They will not come, and we do not tell them."  
  
"OK. When will you bring Matt?" Keith asked, and watched as Pidge looked out of the cove, towards the sea and her tail twitched in small circles for a moment.   
  
"In... One movement." She replied slowly. "yes, I think so."  
Keith took a moment to do his own translation. "A week? That long?"  
  
  
"Bad weather is coming." Pidge was still staring eerily out to the horizon. "It will rain for a long time, starting tomorrow."  
Keith followed her gaze and frowned at the glittering sea, the bright blue sky and the dots of gulls bobbing on the surface.   
  
"Really? You sure?"  
"Oh yes." Pidge replied, a little quickly. "We can tell. Mostly..." One long finger traced a small indent where wiry rope had dug into the flesh of her upper tail.   
  
"The tourists will be pissed if it rains all weekend." Keith laughed, and Pidge flopped onto her back with her arms behind her head.  
"Tourists?"  
"The people on the beach- they don't live here, but they come to visit the sea. They're called tourists."  
"Ah, the sea is very good." The half smile she shot him made him grin back.  
  
"I know I'm glad I came back."  
"Oh? Are you a 'tourist' too?" Pidge looked up from the end of the braid she'd been inspecting to focus on him.  
  
"Eh, no. I was born here, but I moved away to the city when I was a kid. I only came back here recently."  
  
"Re-cent-ly." Pidge repeated to herself, now twirling a lock of hair around the tip of a finger.  
"Um, It means... a short time. I came here a year ago. Got my job with Kolivan a couple of... movements after that. Don't you move at all?"  
  
"Hmmn..." Pidge rolled over onto her side, one arm crossing over her stomach as she pondered her answer. "Our hunting grounds are big. Sometimes we move? To go see other families, or hunt in new areas? We have not had a... different home since I was a pup."  
  
"Must be nice." Keith mirrored her, lying out on his side facing her and pillowing his face with one arm. "Consistent. Living in the same place with the same people."   
"I like my home. But I like here, too." Pidge smiled at him, the tips of her teeth on show.  
  
The warm sun was making him feel lazy, drowsy and for once Pidge seemed content to just relax, watching him contentedly without a single question on her lips, and even the flick of her tail sending droplets of water over herself and occasionally him wasn't enough to kick-start any energy.  
  
He probably should have been more on guard, listening out for the possibility of people stumbling on their spot, or of anyone else that could spoil their secret, but when he next opened his eyes, the tide had gone out, the sun was starting to cast low shadows along the rocks and Pidge had disappeared.  
  
His jacket had been tucked over his bare arms, but his lower legs had managed to catch some of the sun, a little pinker than he was used to seeing. The books had been wrapped neatly in their plastic bags and hidden away, bundled up in a tarp and held down by various rocks in one of the driest corners of their cove.  
  
In the spot where Pidge had been previously lying was one of her little woven bags. A silver tentacle was peeking out at him over the top, and hanging from it was something new.   
  
The twine was warm from the sun, mostly dry but a few knots still felt a little damp to the touch. Still, it had been carefully woven around three of the pieces of sea glass, passing through the little hole in the red one in the center of the length, the two blue jagged ones tied either side of it. They in turn were bordered by a matching pair of cleaned Junonia shells to make a very... ocean-themed necklace.   
  
"...Pidge?" Keith twisted his head around to look out, as if she might suddenly surface in a spray of water, sharp eyes and sharper grin shining with mischief, but the only sound was the water slapping the sides of the rocks and the distant calling of human families over the other side.  
  
He turned the gift over in his hands, stroking along the spotted surface of the shells and admiring unfamiliar knots before tying it around his neck. It slipped easily down past the neckline of his shirt, and he realized that must have been her aim- to allow him to conceal the gifts she seemed adamant on giving him.

  
There were more shells of various shapes and colours littering the floor, as though she'd brought up an armload before picking out the ones she wanted, and he picked up a few of those to put in with the octopus. If she'd left it, he figured Matt must have wanted him to keep it, or at the least he could bring it back if they asked after it later.  
  
Slowly, lingering a little, he went through the stack of books and sorted them by their due date back at the library. He'd renew her favourites and return the ones she'd lost interest in, but keep them at his place if it was going to spend a week raining.

She had hated 'The Little Mermaid', but had found all the fuss over the shoes in 'Cinderella' a total hoot, and had re-read that several times and cooed over the glitter embellished illustrations.   
The dictionaries were her favourites; she could spend hours poring over and learning new words. He'd been keeping his eyes peeled for copies in the local thrift and bric a brac stores, so that she could keep them on a more permanent basis.  
  
He debated leaving the few he'd gotten for a couple of dollars secondhand, but figured it would be wasteful to risk them getting damaged and so into his bag they went.   
  
Boots laced, bag strapped to his back and an armful of books in a plastic bag held against his chest, he started the short trek back to civilization.   
  
Between the library and home, he spied a polaroid camera in the window of one of the thrift stores and paused to look at it. He could bring Pidge photos- of his place, of the shop, of his bike- if the camera was still there on his next paycheck. That, or she might be more interested in taking the thing apart to see how it worked than actually taking any photos with it.

What  _was_  he doing? Did his life now revolve around this small fish-girl? This was like something out of a ridiculous children's movie. He pulled himself away from the window and continued home.

Who was he trying to kid, he'd probably end up saving up to get a camera.  
  
The sky up until now had been cloudless, a solid blue but over the rooftops he spied the creeping of some rather heavy looking clouds, sneaking in as the light started to fade. The sight made him smirk to himself as he rounded the open shutter doors into the garage.  
  
Kolivan unfolded one arm to raise it in greeting, but immediately turned his attention back to the disgruntled, sunburnt tourist arguing with him.  
"I ain't never taken it on the sand- I'm not paying!"

  
Keith glanced at the car that come in the previous morning, the one that had come with the layer of beige clinging into the tyre treads and the grit streaking the underside, crusty like a rash. He'd helped clean the damn thing out and change over some parts, and he snorted. Never driven in the sand, his ass.  
  
"If you can give me a satisfactory explanation as to how sand got in your filters and all over your car without being driven in the sand I'll gladly waive the fee." Kolivan's voice was deep, never wavering in volume or tone, but there was still a 'don't screw with me' vibe that had the customer visibly starting to sweat.  
Keith ducked under the curtain and into the back of the garage, grinning at the flustered sounds of the smaller man sputtering in response.  
  
The octopus could hang up under the sunlight in the attic. That way the light could catch it and the underside could be on show. The books went on his desk and the bag and shells were stashed under the bed. The necklace was warm under his collarbone, and after a moment of contemplation he undid it and carefully wound it up and stowed it in his pocket before heading down to help in the shop.  
  
*  
  
" _Man, oh man did our weatherman Phil get it wrong, folks! If you heard yesterday's forecast for bright sunshine and gentle breezes, you might want to pack away your shades and sunscreen and break out the raincoats and umbrellas! It's a **dismal**  day today, but we've got a great lineup to bring a smile to your faces-_"  
  
Keith twiddled with the volume knobs on the radio, turning it up over the harsh rapping of the rain pelting the metal roof of the workshop. Right on schedule in the early hours of the morning the heavens had opened and sent the most eager beach-goers and walkers scattering for cover.   
  
"Hey Red," He said to the motorbike leaning on its kickstand in the corner. His father apparently had  _liked_ to name his vehicles, but lacked the ability to do it well. The scarlet of the bike was chipped, faded and stained. It would need a fresh coat of paint once it was running properly again.  
  
Several panels had been removed to make access to the inner workings easier, and seeing as today looked to be pretty quiet Keith wanted to spend some time with his father's bike, see if there was anything he could do by himself until Antok or Kolivan had some spare time again. A lot of the parts had already been replaced, filters cleaned, oils changed and wires reconnected. With any luck it should run soon, and then all that would really be left would be aesthetic work. Keith felt a giddy jump in his chest at the thought of being able to take it out on the road.  
  
The front lights no longer came on, and the brake light had been cracked at some point, a jagged hole in the red plastic that opened up to the bulb inside. They'd located the new parts needed and Keith set to work easing the old, dusty piece out from the rear. He let the old frame clatter to the floor and half-sang, half-mumbled along to the rock song crackling on the radio.   
  
He could probably do with giving it another scrub down at some point. It was incredibly dusty work, already his hands were mottled pink from gripping tools, underneath smears of grey dust and muck, and he was pretty sure there was some dirt on his face where he'd repeatedly run his hands through his hair to push it out of his eyes.   
  
Idly he thought about Pidge and all the braids that guided her hair back and out of her face in messy tracks, and yet thick locks still flopped over her eyes and dried in an unearthly tangle around her face. He should probably follow her advice, or cut his hair- one of the two.   
  
He sat back, wiping his brow with the back of his arm and yep- definitely had grime on his face.   
"So Red, wanna see if I did the job right?" He asked, standing up and fishing the keys out of the pocket of his hooded sweatshirt. They slotted into the ignition and turned with a satisfying click. Sitting side-saddle across the seat he took the handlebars and flicked the headlight switch. They flickered to life and so did his grin. A squeeze on the brake and the red glow behind him confirmed a job well done.  
  
He puffed a triumphant sigh and patted the frame. "Good kitty."  
Something clunked as his hand struck the bike and he frowned. Another knock, and something rattled again. The hub in front of the saddle was a storage space, but the key hadn't been with the rest of his dad's box of bike gear.  
  
Chewing on his lip he pushed up from the bike, and retrieved a screwdriver. He worked the flat tip into the seam of the lid, trying to feel for the locking mechanism. Maybe he'd accidentally locked the keys in there? Was that even possible?  
  
He grunted and pushed, feeling some give as the lid started to part. Using the palm of his hand to push the other end of the screwdriver, he leaned his whole weight into it and hefted, straining against the creaking lid.  
With a pop the lid flew up and Keith's hands slipped and when he saw the spatter of blood on his jeans he realised he'd managed to slice his palm open. Seeing it made a sudden pain shoot up his wrist and he groaned, grabbing his hand and stumbling towards the toolbox for a rag.  
  
Cursing under his breath he tied the cleanest cloth he could find around his hand, pulling tight on the ends. That would need cleaning as soon as possible.  
First though, cradling his arm to his stomach he returned to the bike and peered into the compartment.   
  
It was empty.   
  
"What?" Keith grumbled to himself and with his left hand took hold of the popped lid. It clinked. He wiggled it down and something swayed as he did so.   
Yellowing tape was coming away from the underside of the lid. He caught the end of a strip and tugged. It came away easily, the adhesive gunked up and making the tape hard and crusty.  
  
With it came something else- Keith pushed the lid back up and stopped dead.  
  
Several more strips of old tape were crisscrossed over something that glinted in a familiar way. Both his injured and whole hand were shaking as he pulled away more strips to let the woven necklace fall into them. The twine was old, made up of what looked like hanks of unravelled rope. It tied around tiny cockle and twisted shells, what looked like a tooth and the dark blue frosted texture of sea glass that he was now accustomed to.  
  
He turned it over, held it up to the light, staring at the knots. His other hand groped blindly under his shirt to free his own necklace as though somehow it was an illusion, somehow he'd misplaced his in the bike as he'd worked.  
  
His necklace was smaller, less trinkets added. The knots were a little more clumsy; Pidge had made more passes around the shells with her ropes, as if she was less confident in securing them. This one was older, thicker, and far more intricately woven. The teeth were discoloured with age, but the gems were still smooth and shiny, cobalt blue pieces tied either side of the shells.  
  
Keith took a breath to steady himself. There were dozens of market stalls in town that sold handmade nautical themed jewelry. Sea glass wasn't a Pidge-only thing. He himself had seen little green and clear pieces wash up onshore, the same with shells and pieces of webbing and driftwood. It was a coincidence. It was... something.  
  
He should tell Pidge, in a week when he saw her again, shouldn't he? He stared down at the little shells, clacking together as he twisted it around as though he'd find a signature or price tag attached.  
He should tell her, right?  
  
The metal doors were rolling up and Keith shoved the necklace into his pocket and turned around.  
  
"Keith?" Antok was looking at him, his shaky breathing, his flushed face and bright eyes, the stains on his jeans. "Are you OK?"  
"Oh- y-yeah." Keith held up his bandaged hand. "Just... caught myself on a sharp edge. I should go clean it up."  
  
"There's antiseptic under the sink." He heard Antok call as he hurried out, holding his hands over his pocket.  
  
It couldn't be a coincidence, could it?  
  
  
  
*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH


End file.
